Jez Surge and the Power Purge
by Shaun-2885
Summary: In a world ravaged by war after the depletion of fossil fuels – the power hungry Carcer city government has devised a horrifying, and most despicable means of overcoming the vast energy shortages. They are hunting, capturing and torturing wizards and
1. Blurb and Hard Back Cover

**This is my first attempt at fiction. I am enjoying writing it and hope you enjoy reading it. S.C.F**

**Blurb**

In a world ravaged by war after the depletion of fossil fuels – the power hungry Carcer city government has devised a horrifying, and most despicable means of overcoming the vast energy shortages. They are hunting, capturing and torturing wizards and witches in a bid to harness their magical essence as a sustainable energy source.

Jez Surge is a sixteen year old boy. Not only does he have to deal with being the son of overbearing, intelligent and somewhat sinister Allias Surge – he must contend with a growing affection for the beautiful Chayse Summers. To top things off he has noticed that he is developing strange and wonderful powers during a time when anything other than being "normal" is a dangerous occupation.

**Hard Back Sleeve**

Carcer city glowed brilliantly against the night sky. Luminous signs and electronic advertisements seemed superimposed against a vast sheet of blackness. The streets were lined with streetlamps, an army of sentinels revealing the way for the evening travellers. Cars sped down the motorways and weaved through side roads, their headlights glowing like bright, white halos. Row upon row of houses lined the streets, each house sending out its own jets of light into the night.

Many travellers who had the fortune of making the journey to Carcer city were often perplexed by the wonder of its power. They were often shocked and in awe that electricity apparently flowed freely through the veins of the city, without sign of shortage or that it was ever likely to abate. Surely the officials of Carcer city would be more cautious with such an abundant power supply? Why has Carcer not revealed the source of its power? Would they not share their power with other cities? These were just some of the questions posed by those who happened upon Carcer.

The reason for such questions you see is that any form of power on the Earth was rare. Around sixty years ago the last drop of fossil fuel had been indefinitely burned up and there was none left (except for the odd lump of coal or vial of oil displayed in museums). During a period of time when the fossil fuels were almost depleted, many societies waged terrible wars upon one another in a bid to secure a couple of extra years of "juice", however the use of tanks; and planes; and ships; and submarines merely used up the power more quickly. Oil fields were burned in a bid to spite opposing forces and the extinction of fossil fuel was helped along by the greed and desperation of mankind.

The renewable energy source equipment for wind, water and solar power had been damaged and in many cases destroyed by the "Fossil Fuel wars" meaning that the entire world was virtually at a standstill in terms of economic and technological growth. Except that is, for Carcer city.


	2. Prologue  Hunters in the Night

Prologue – Hunters in the Night

A figure shrouded in robes darted through Far Fledge forest. With an unparalleled nimble agility he soared over the forest floor avoiding low branches and fallen trunks without making the slightest sound. So slight were his footsteps that he passed within inches of a deer that did not sense his approach. As he navigated his way through the trees and bushes nature seemed to be giving him a helping hand. It appeared that branches rose slightly higher or lower as he approached them so that they did not impede his progress. Two tree trunks, growing incredibly close to one another, seemed to actually part away in opposite directions for the briefest of moments as he passed between the two.

Angus Lightfoot was a fully fledged wizard. He had been a member of the Guild of Elemental Magic (G.E.M) for many, many years and was several hundred years old (wizards believed that age counting and birthdays were trivial and inconsequential notions, so it was unlikely he actually knew his own age). It was without doubt however that he was as quick and as agile as any young, fit teenager one might find throughout the land, and tonight he was mustering all of his might, energy and skill in a desperate bid to ensure his future survival as a free minded, free willed individual.

The Department of Magical Acquisition (D.O.M.A) had sent an elite squad to hunt down and capture Angus. They had been tracking him for some time through the outskirts and underworld of Carcer city and for the most part he had proved to be a cunning, elusive and highly skilled quarry. They had already lost two men to this mission during a rather nasty confrontation with Sewer Dwarfs when Angus's escape detoured into the underbelly of Carcer city. Reflecting on the tragic loss of two of his soldiers, Commander Morose was feeling particularly confident that tonight was the night that his strategically planned and finely tuned snare would finally enclose upon that filthy wizard Lightfoot.

Through his night vision goggles he could see two members of his team positioning themselves high up in the trees. He could also see other squad members erecting forcefield emitters at predefined locations. He twitched his right eye slightly and his night vision view quickly switched to a different screen resolution. Using cybernetic implants Morose's equipment responded to his thoughts allowing him to cycle through a variety of settings with lightning quick speed and minimal effort.

He was now able to see a selection of glowing lines flowing through the air. They were veins of magical essence and they covered the earth in vast and varied multitudes. The essence lines were completely invisible and harmless to humans, but they were essential for the magical abilities and powers of wizards to work. Also, whenever a wizard was in close proximity to a certain line it would vibrate and shudder, showing anybody who was able to see and understand the complex patterns, the whereabouts, and potential power of the wizard.

Presently Morose was filled with a calm excitement as he watched a series of essence lines shudder one after the other – indicating that a powerful wizard had arched around his squad in a large semi-circle. He signalled his men to be at the ready and activated his communications device to indicate to his flanking decoy group to start closing in the ambush.

Private Moorhead felt anxious as he followed the flanking squad. This was his first mission on the hunt and he was only too aware that he was one of the replacements for the two lost "squaddies" who fell to the Sewer Dwarfs. Suddenly the bushes in front of him burst open; he stumbled backwards and landed on his backside, both startled and afraid.

"It's only a deer you idiot, pick yourself up off your fat arse and get back into formation," came the hushed and agitated response of one of his more experienced team mates.

"I'm so-"

"Shhh," another soldier interrupted, "don't make another sound". They had noticed on their night vision goggles that the magical essence lines had started to throng in a more concentrated pattern. The well honed plan was coming into fruition, Angus Lightfoot was close by!

Lightfoot had sensed the impending danger and was fully expecting a trap. He was tired from the days he had spent on the run and fatigue was fast setting in. Although it did not show, he felt mentally exhausted and his senses were slowly losing their usual sharpness. Initially, he had been able to control the essence lines that surrounded him to slightly mask his presence from the soldiers. However in his present condition concentrating on the lines merely made them react more fervently to his presence. He also noticed that the forest was no longer reacting as responsively to his being there; this was a sure sign that he needed shelter and rest to recoup his powers. Unfortunately for him, from this point onward, events had already been set into motion that were about to ensure that the pain he felt now would be nothing compared to what was in store.

He noticed the soldiers discussing the amount of noise they were making, and he even knew that they had spotted the commotion that the magical essence lines were creating. In such close proximity battle was inevitable and Lightfoot was all too aware that he had lost the element of surprise. In an all or nothing manoeuvre he raised his staff in the air and mustered all of his will. A surge of power filled his body and he curled his hands tightly around the staff which acted naturally as a powerful conductor. At the tip of the staff a sphere of light formed perfectly.

A blast of light erupted through the forest. The soldiers reacted too slowly. Undoubtedly the flash that seemingly glowed brighter than the sun had burned their retinas to a point of no repair. Writhing on the floor, deprived of their gift of sight, the soldiers would no longer pose a threat to Lightfoot.

Fortunately for Morose, he had noticed the rapid change in the essence lines when Lightfoot had summoned his power. The hardened general had instructed his main squadron to adjust their visors to shield from magical expulsion. This meant that when Lightfoot summoned the ball, not only were they protected, they had the ability to see and pinpoint his exact location, a detail that Morose had been relying on. To the remaining soldiers, Lightfoot was now emanating a God like glow that was unlikely to fade anytime soon.

The main rank of soldiers had now positioned themselves perfectly. With Lightfoot temporarily distracted, a strike team moved in to surround him, leaving one obvious gap in their circle. Lightfoot saw a soldier, clad in silver, lightweight armour rapidly approaching him and knew that his position was compromised. He sent a magical shockwave surging through his fingertips that erupted into the night air and hit the soldier square in the chest, a blow that would have crippled a regular person. Unfortunately, the soldiers were wearing toughened armour that both absorbed and disbursed the force of any magical essence. Formed in a scientifically enhanced Blacksmith's forge by a mysterious creator, and infused with technology that had been specifically designed and developed for those who made it their business to hunt and capture wizards the protective garments proved somewhat impenetrable. Perturbed by the ineffectiveness of his spell, Lightfoot concentrated the magical essence to his legs and set off at a startling pace in retreat from his attackers, running directly through the purpose made gap in their defences.

Stationed in the trees, two snipers had been told to anticipate this move and had already fired their weapons. Two miniscule darts pierced the air at an unnatural speed; both found their mark and embedded themselves deep into Lightfoot's skin. A wizard's skin could usually repel regular, man-made bullets or darts, yet in this instance the darts had been developed to break the magical barrier and they successfully passed through the essence filled cocoon like a hot knife through butter.

The darts began to fulfil their role the instant they made contact with Lightfoot's skin. Acting as transmitters, they were converting the magical essence in the wizard's body into refined power and wirelessly transmitting the power to the forcefield barriers. Several of Morose's men began firing shots in Lightfoot's direction, driving him into the target zone where the forcefield emitters had been placed in a circle. As soon as the wizard entered the circle, the emitters burst into life generating a vast sheet of impenetrable light. Angus Lightfoot was moving too quickly to stop himself and he collided with full force into the barrier, ricocheting backwards and flipping in mid flight he hit the floor with a deafening thud, his staff landing several feet away from him.

Morose acted quickly, he flicked out a telescopic baton that had a noose loosely attached to its tip. Several of his men followed suit and they quickly passed through the forcefield, a feat made possible by their specially enhanced armour. Within seconds Morose had the noose around his prey's neck whilst his men noosed his wrists and ankles. Specially designed to repel magic, the noose delivered unbearable shocks to Lightfoot whenever he tried to summon his innate magical abilities. He was now rendered powerless and defenceless at the cold, unfeeling mercy of the soldiers.

Morose knelt down and whispered softly into Lightfoot's ear. "Thank you, Angus. Tonight we celebrate as you embark on your new role within our society – as our very own super-charged battery. Let's hope you keep going, and going, and going! Hahaha!" Morose and his men burst into laughter as Angus Lightfoot's eyes lost their ice blue appeal, turning a wispy grey as fear took hold.


	3. Chapter 1 Growing Pains

Growing Pains

Deep in a chamber of unfathomable proportions, a bearded man howled in pain. He was suspended in the air, his arms outstretched and restrained in clamps that seemed to encompass the entirety of his hands and most of his forearms. His tattered robes hung from his thin, pale body. The old man's skin was translucent and looked paper thin, as though it would tear at the slightest touch. His eyes were drawn and white, colour all but drained from them.

A doctor approached the dangling figure carrying a sleek, black pouch. He placed the pouch on a metallic table and unfurled the flaps to reveal several shiny implements that seemed unlikely to serve any healing purpose in the world of medicine.

Carefully the doctor selected a syringe with a shining needle. He plucked a vial of pale-green liquid from his pocket and inserted it into the syringe. Picking up a belt, the doctor moved over to where the man was suspended and wrapped the belt around his arm. He pulled it tight with ferocious force, causing the man to grimace. Finding a vein he carelessly jabbed the needle into the old man's arm and injected the green serum.

"Soon your powers will be completely purged, and we can move on to our next supplier my magical friend." The doctor's serpentine voice echoed over and over again as the old man let out a blood curdling scream.

Jez burst from his restless slumber in a cold sweat. The hair at the back of his neck was drenched and as he slumped backwards he felt the cold surface of his saturated pillow. "Wow. That was one weird dream!" he thought to himself. He threw off his quilts, slipped out of bed and opened his window wide. His alarm clock read 3:28 am and he groaned at the thought of having double History first thing in the morning. He lay back down on his bed and closed his eyes. Wearing only his boxer shorts he relished in the draft that now drifted over his body. He felt goose-bumps rise over his legs and arms and allowed a set of involuntary tingles to erupt across his sturdy frame.

At sixteen years old Jez had a mature physique. He was an avid rugby player but also enjoyed swimming and surfing, which meant that he really did keep in shape. Jez's face was symmetrically aligned, his green eyes had a shiny edge and his tanned skin showed he liked to spend a lot of time outdoors. His sandy hair was of a medium length that swept back in smooth, uneven waves and gave the impression that he had worked hard to maintain the look when he often merely had to run a hand through the locks for them to fall neatly into place. Undoubtedly he was a hit with the ladies – and he knew it.

As he lay in bed, the details of the dream that had so violently awoken him swirled around his mind in a vortex of disturbing detail. Why would the dream be so vivid and realistic yet feature faces of people he had never even met? Jez shuddered deeply as the terror-filled scream resonated in his mind. He flipped his pillow over to the dry side and nuzzled his head deep into its fluffy folds. Breathing deeply he allowed thoughts of Chayse Summers to fill his mind and occupy his thoughts. Whilst most girls usually found him irresistibly attractive, Chayse seemed to possess a deep and profound dislike towards him. His overbearing confidence seemed to irritate her to the core whilst his humour only ever seemed to instil in her deep annoyance. Jez chuckled to himself as he pictured her beautiful countenance transform into a steely glare whenever she laid eyes upon him. It was the thrill of the chase (no pun intended, he chuckled again) that made her ooze the wow factor that he increasingly found himself drawn to.

Jez's alarm clock chimed loudly a couple of hours later. He awoke from his deep sleep and sat up groggily. He had fallen asleep thinking harmonious thoughts of Chayse and the unpleasant nightmare was now a cloudy, distant haze. After standing and stretching he adjusted his boxer shorts that were presently giving him a most uncomfortable wedgey and stepped into his en-suite bathroom. The tiles were cold on his bare feet and he quickly hopped onto the bath mat.

As he took a pee he yawned and scratched his head, revelling in the warm, tired feeling that still fogged his mind. He flushed the chain and turned on the shower, stepping into the cascading water quickly, gasping as the ice cold pierced through to his core. He always jumped straight in as he knew the water would only take a few moments to heat up, and besides, he liked the sharpness that the cold created, it alerted his mind and caused his senses to burst into life. Steam filled the bathroom quickly and Jez casually washed himself, spending long, drawn out moments when he would merely stand and listen to the water hammering against his skin. After getting out, cleaning his teeth and getting dressed, Jez cast a final glance at himself in the mirror, ran a hand through his still damp hair and shot a quick wink back at his reflection.

Allias Surge grimaced slightly as his son tore down the stairs three at a time and crashed into the hall at the bottom with an energetic, force filled thud. "Normal people descend the stairs one at a time, at a moderate pace to ensure they do not end up sprawled in the basement!" Allias spoke in a clipped, deliberate manner, every utterance was delivered with precision causing the recipient of his words to naturally feel both stupid and patronised at the same time.

"Wow dad, it's amazing that you manage to make it down stairs on a morning without cutting your mouth on that sharp tongue!" Jez replied coolly. "I'm great thanks, how's your morning going?"

"Drop the sarcasm Jez, it's not like you have the time to think, given that your bus arrives in five minutes and I am most certainly not running you to school today." Again Allias's tone was intolerant and business like. "I have a lot to do. A large supply of power is due in this morning and I have to configure the generators to convert the load. It is likely I will be late home from work, you can order a take away."

"OK, cool mate, see ya in a bit!" Jez replied, knowing full well that his choice of expression would irritate his father to the core. Grabbing a slice of toast he scooped up his bag, swung it over his shoulder and walked through the door, slamming it shut with as much force as he could muster. The crash echoed through the house and caused the door to reverberate fiercely many seconds after it had closed.

Jez felt deep hatred for Allias. It wasn't resentment nor was it dislike, it was pure, unrefined hatred that had culminated and dwelled inside him over many, many years. Since the death of his mother shortly after Jez's birth, it seemed his father had struck up a personal vendetta against him. He often received violent and unnecessary beatings at the hand of Allias. Frequently subjected to both mental and physical torture as a young child, Jez could not possibly imagine ever feeling any emotion other than hatred towards Allias. Since growing up of course the beatings had stopped as Jez was now more than capable of defending himself. Yet anxiety still gripped his innards when the two found themselves locked in confrontation, due to the calm yet unpredictable air that Allias seemed to command.

The school bus shuddered up the road sounding like a lawn mower that had suffered from years of neglect and torture itself. Although the world was depleted of fossil fuels, certain alterations had been made to vehicles allowing them to run off an alternative power source that had been developed by the great Allias Surge himself. The general public of Carcer city did not know what the formula of this power source was, nor did they care as their government certainly seemed to have control of things. Jez coughed as he stepped onto the bus, trying not to inhale the cloud of dust that the vehicle had disbursed.

The bus was crammed full, a selection of goths, chavs, and emos were grouped in pockets amongst the average school children. Jez quickly assessed the seat situation and overlooked the fact that a multitude of girls were moving their bags and budging up in futile hope that he would sit next to them. There was only one girl he was eager to see, and his luck was in as he noticed Chayse place her bag firmly on the vacant space to her right. It was undoubtedly a rejection that screamed "Find somewhere else to sit, you fool." Yet Jez felt obliged to take the seat anyway. He shifted Chayse's bag aside and casually slumped into the seat.

"The bag gave me the impression that you really wanted me to sit here, yet you were too shy to ask." Jez mused in his most relaxed, charming manner.

"Clearly your understanding of human behaviour is somewhat deprived, Jez!" Chayse replied in a curt and most irritated tone. She became clearly infuriated as Jez responded with a hearty chuckle and flashed her his most disarming, perfect smile. "You know what, you disgust me, and you treat girls like they are some sort of pretty toy that was placed on the Earth to provide you with endless joy and amusement!" Chayse was clearly pissed today, and the more she vented the more Jez thrived.

"What? You weren't placed on this Earth to be the sole source of my pleasure?" Jez quipped.

"For God's sake Jez, take the hint you pratt!" Chayse was not in the mood for this overbearing confidence. She had suffered from a poor night's sleep and was still struggling to shake the blood-curdling scream that had filled her dreams and forced her to shun returning to the land of slumber. The strange scenario still haunted her thoughts and the visions had somewhat intensified when Jez sat down next to her. Her emotions often intensified when she found herself in close proximity to Jez Surge. His irrepressible charisma seemed to antagonise her feelings and cause a deep, sometimes impenetrable haze of red mist.

She was therefore mortified when he suddenly slumped his head fully upon her shoulder! Was he for real? Had he finally taken the step from annoying pest to full blown harasser? "Jez get off me you filthy perv'!" Chayse pushed hard against Jez using the side of the bus to gain leverage, she thrust his dead weight off herself and watched in awe, her eyes unnaturally wide, as he swayed sideways like a rag doll and dropped heavily into the aisle landing with a painful thud. The bus load of children quickly honed in to what had happened and looked on as Jez lay motionless on the floor. Suddenly, his body seemed to stretch fully out in a violent spasm. He thrashed around on the floor like a fish out of water, his eyes lolling loosely, before finally he became still.

Jez snapped out from his apparent fit as quickly as it had occurred. Sitting up slowly, with a feeling that he had been struck by a ten tonne freight train, he felt dizzy and gagged slightly as bile rose up and began burning in his throat. His muscles felt as though they had been stripped from his bones, attached to the hinds of two horses and stretched beyond natural proportions as they were set galloping in opposite directions. He had experienced growing pains in the past, but this was a whole new league. Just what had happened to him? Presently, his innards felt as though a small, warm ball of energy was gradually expanding from within him. A throbbing throng that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his heart beat. What was happening? Had some sort of unknown medical condition reared its ugly head and sought to unleash its wrath upon him? An orchestra of thoughts whirled in his aching mind.

A group of girls had surrounded him, all feigning utter despair and intense alarm for their fallen hero. Noticing a brief chink in his armour, it was Chayse however who felt the irrepressible urge to stoop down and throw Jez's arm around her neck. In his present condition, he resembled a scared rabbit caught in the headlights of a HGV thundering down the motorway. His head lulled for a moment and she thought that for the briefest of moments she had saw his eyes temporarily flicker open and flash with a bright, golden light, but it happened so quickly that she could not be sure. She heaved his athletic structure from the floor and awkwardly dumped him back onto the seat. Conscious that the dozen or so girls in the "Jez club" had mentally clawed her face and pulled out her hair; she still could not suppress this strange and new found concern that had overwhelmed her senses.

Jez, who was still fighting the fog of confusion and bewilderment, barely registered this act of care that Chayse had displayed. It slowly sunk in and he looked at her with a sideways glance that both diminished and disbursed her previous feelings for him. "I didn't know you cared." He said in an exhausted, almost inaudible whisper.

"I don't," she retorted in a biting tone, "but you had fallen on my bag." She quickly glanced towards the aisle and scooped up her bag that was crumpled on the floor. She hugged it close to her chest and turned to face the window. Jez carefully admired her picturesque profile. Her hazel eyes had acquired an edge of alarm, her jaw was set tight and her hair carefully traced the outline of her face, falling neatly down over her shoulder.

Inside Chayse was thinking about the strange and inexplicable event that had just transpired. What had caused Jez to burst into such a convulsion? More importantly, why was it that all of her previous loathing for him had ground to a halt and burst in the opposite direction to a feeling of warmth and care? Glancing in his direction for the briefest of moments, she caught him staring at her and huffed slightly before returning her gaze to the scenery outside.

The bus returned to mindless chatter and childish laughter whilst Jez and Chayse endured the remainder of the journey to school in awkward, forced silence.


	4. Chapter 2 Power in Abundance

Power in abundance

Allias Surge stepped from his sleek, black Mercedez Benz. Being the developer and inventor of the Essence Dynamo ensured that he was allowed the privilege to drive the relatively new flag car of the _Essence_ series. Due to the "Fossil Fuel wars", modes of transport involving oil and petrol had to be completely reconceptualised, and consequently the cost of the new range was ludicrously extravagant. Cost was not an issue however for the founder and sole Executive Director of the Energy Deployment Agency.

Walking rapidly, he was clearly a man with purpose. Tall and slender he cut an impressive image wearing his tailor made Armani suit. A black shirt and black skinny tie complemented his outfit and matched seamlessly with his black hair. As he approached the entrance to the Energy Deployment Agency a man in smart attire greeted him and held open the door. As he entered the building, he was automatically scanned by a series of floor and ceiling mounted X-rays, on the surface they were assessing for weapons and the like; however on an entirely more advanced note, more complex scanners were assessing his entire molecular make-up. Beyond the scanners stretched a foyer of grand proportions. A series of eight pillars soared upwards, seemingly supporting the main structure of the building. The entire area was covered in sleek, black marble embedded with tiny golden flecks. Three reception desks were symmetrically positioned in a semi circle, each desk being the initial threshold to separate departments of equal importance within the building.

Allias made his way through the reception desk granting access to the Department of Energy Acquisition. "Good morning Mr Surge." Sandra, the young and bubbly receptionist said in a flustered, embarrassed manner. Oh how she adored that man. He was handsome, mysterious and his presence evoked in her a feeling of attraction that she knew she should avoid, yet felt obliged to embrace. If only he knew that she was alive.

Allias dismissed her greeting as he made a beeline for the elevators. People were already waiting, and upon his approach he slowed as he watched a set of doors glide open. Several people who had been waiting patiently noticed Allias nearing the lifts, and cautiously opted to take the next one. He paced into the now open elevator and spun on his heel. He noticed with a feeling of annoyance that a man in his early twenties, clearly new to the company, had dared to step in alongside him. Allias pointedly raised his hand and forced a finger upon the button that caused the doors to remain open. Other colleagues stood motionless, waiting in anticipation for Allias's reaction. Allias raised one eyebrow ever so slightly and glared at the young man. It took a few seconds for realisation to dawn upon the man that he was actually staring at the infamous Allias Surge.

"I'm sorry sir, I think I'm in the wrong lift…my mistake!" He scurried from the lift and turned to wait for the next. Allias cast a cursory glance at the man's name badge as he released the doors from their held state and made a mental note for his PA to sack him.

The lift soared rapidly downwards to the underbelly of the agency. Allias felt a shudder as he arrived at his intended floor. The doors slid open to reveal another set of doors immediately behind them. He angled his eye to a small, electronic device attached to the panel on the wall. A beam of light scanned his optical biometrics and the computer granted almost immediate access; the doors parted with a hiss.

Allias stepped out into the corridor and approached his PA's office. He opened the door and strode in. "Eden, Luke Kelton from the Department of Power Processing is to be dismissed for 'his failure to follow due protocol and procedure'. Also, I would like the latest acquisition file, I assume it is already prepared for me." He spoke in a humourless, abrupt manner.

"Yes Mr Surge, I have also included a list of the acquisition's predicted power forecasts based on preliminary tests." Eden was the pinnacle of efficiency. She was no nonsense and consistently seemed to second guess Allias's plans in a near perfect manner. Her unquestioning professionalism secured her place as his most trusted clerk and her apparent indifference to niceties ensured that he tolerated her presence.

In composed silence he took the file from Eden and made his way to the holding chambers. The corridors in this department were whitewashed and plain. A clinical smell of disinfectant and new carpets filled the air causing the atmosphere to feel cold and impersonal.

As Allias approached the holding chamber, he read the name on the file 'Angus Lightfoot'. A smile flickered across his face that vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Months of planning and preparation had finally paid off and Allias was certain that the addition of Angus to his generators would provide stability to the power grid for the next twelve months at least. He was going to savour this acquisition. Like a shark smelling his prey's blood from over a mile away, Allias was moving in for the kill. He quickened his pace in morbid anticipation as he passed through several security check points with ease, disregarding the greetings from the various security guards he passed on the way. Finally, he arrived at the entrance to the chamber. Again he was subjected to a retina scan before being granted access to the chamber's interior.

Formed in a perfectly cylindrical shape, the chamber was vast. Jutting from the centre of the ceiling a large and complex looking mechanical arm pointed downwards stopping fifteen feet from the floor. At its point, the arm forked into two prongs, both of which harboured clamps that constricted the hands and wrists of Angus Lightfoot, suspending him several feet off the ground.

The wizard looked drained. His face displayed a mixture of deep exhaustion and utter despair. He looked up slowly as Allias's shoes tapped loudly on the cool, shining floor. The sinister footsteps echoed around the room, each step was purposeful, menacing. He circled Angus's suspended body carefully taking in every detail of the ancient wizard. "You have evaded us for quite some time Mr Lightfoot. It has caused me a great deal of inconvenience," Alias paused. "I have incurred vast costs in trying to find you". Allias was quietly relishing the fact that Lightfoot was now his prisoner. "However, that cost will soon be recouped as you are about to embark upon a mission of great importance for this company."

"I will never work for you! You are misguided if you think anything to the contrary!" Angus's voice was somewhat melodic; his words seemed to linger in the air as though every syllable was part of an elaborate and complex tune.

Allias twisted his arm slightly and a remote control fell from his sleeve into his palm. A button was pushed and the clamps that had held Lightfoot in place stretched outwards, moving further away from one another. Lightfoot grimaced in excruciating pain, yet he stifled a groan. "Mr Lightfoot, I think it is you who is misguided. You will not be taking part in anything of your own free will. It would be foolish of us to assume that any wizard held in this establishment would make such a sacrifice." A smile slowly grew across Allias's face. "All you have to do is... hang around in here, and we will do the rest!" Allias tapped another button and the clamps began to rotate. Angus Lightfoot was being twisted and stretched in ways that would have rendered a mere mortal unconscious as a result of the agonising pain.

"What is it that you have planned?" Lightfoot asked, trying to muster strength and conviction into his voice.

"What? Your transcribers of the future have not foreseen your fate," Allias asked in mock curiosity. "The rune readers have failed to see what lies before you, haven't they!" The rune readers were three powerful, old witches. They were the last of their kind in that they could see the future. For years they had been the trusted advisors to the Guild of Wizards; they had carefully woven a never ending tapestry that both predicted and documented the future. Alongside the tapestry the witches practised the reading of the runes, using various sacrifices to infuse their power.

"You know nothing of the rune readers Allias Surge, you know not of the delicate and intricate powers they possess!" Anger was rising in Lightfoot's tone, Allias Surge knew too much.

"Oh I know enough Mr Lightfoot. You see the old hags that you had relied upon so heavily are no longer aligned with the Guild of Wizards. In exchange for an act of mercy on my part they agreed to mislead you, and feed incorrect information to you. As a result, here you are. As for what I intend to do with you, well, where should we start?" Allias looked up at Lightfoot through dead-pool eyes encircled by deep, dark shadows. Lightfoot sensed the evil power inside the man before him; he felt nausea as a result of the overwhelming negative forces emanating from every one of Allias's pores.

"The process we utilise is somewhat complex in composing, yet simple in principle." Allias stroked his chin and locked eyes with Lightfoot. "Our organisation deals in the acquisition of magical power. Given the state of most societies with regard to power generation, our Government is keen to be seen as a forerunner in development. We are a bastion to other societies; our glowing lights and free flowing energy are beacons of hope to those who have no hope. So, what do we do with magical power, you ask, well let me explain." Allias was clearly enjoying his role, basking in the sheer power he now held over a being that was, in terms of raw power, far more powerful than himself. "After my squadron of acquisitionists capture our prey, we bring them here to be processed. After being processed, we inject the wizard with a serum known as the Purge. Acting as a catalyst, the Purge repels magical essence as it travels through the body, causing the repelled power to ooze out of the wizard's hands. We believe that the hands are an exit point due to the fact that wizards often opt to use their hands to conduct and conjure magical essence. Of course, there are the eyes also, yet in development this tended to cause blindness and the most hideous cataracts in our test subjects, causing power flow to be somewhat unreliable. Do you understand what I am saying so far?"

"Do not patronise me Surge!" Lightfoot snapped at Allias with growing contempt.

"Good, then I shall continue," Allias retorted in a smug manner. "The machine you are presently attached to is known as the Magical Essence Dynamo. As the Purge works its magic, the dynamo begins to absorb the expelled magical essence. As the essence is retained, we begin to refine the raw power into the most pure, most distinguished kind of energy imaginable. From there the Department of Power Processing converts the energy so that it is compatible with run of the mill generators before being transferred to the Department of Power Allocation who fill up batteries, sell it to other companies for extortionate amounts of money, and generally decide how much power should be distributed to the general public." Allias paused momentarily and took a moment to look Lightfoot up and down. "As you can imagine, what with you being our latest acquisition, we now have power in abundance, Mr Lightfoot."

Lightfoot had listened patiently to Allias's speech. Not only was he seriously fatigued, he was also trying to come to terms with the fact that the rune readers had betrayed his kind. On top of all of this, he was now beginning to realise that he was soon to become entwined in a most violating ploy that would test his willpower further than it had ever been tested throughout his seven hundred and something years of life. "You will never get away with this!"

"Come Mr Lightfoot, let us not resort to clichés!" Allias smirked as he continued, "I would have thought that being several hundred years old you would have at least held the upper hand as we parried words! You wizards do not cease to disappoint me. It is fortunate that I have found at least one use for you." As he spoke, Allias tapped a com badge that was cunningly disguised as a cufflink. The chamber doors glided open and a man dressed in a white coat carrying a black, leather pouch entered the room.


End file.
